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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29489250">The Secrets We Keep</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BleakDecembersDyingEmber/pseuds/BleakDecembersDyingEmber'>BleakDecembersDyingEmber</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 23:55:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,181</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29489250</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BleakDecembersDyingEmber/pseuds/BleakDecembersDyingEmber</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>You met the Winchester’s a little less than a year ago when they came to town for a case.  You’d had one or two moments of, shall we say, closeness with the youngest Winchester, and more than your fair share of arguments, too.  But this time may just be different.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sam Winchester/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Her expression of disgust and disbelief stared wildly at me.  Eyes wide and her mouth just slightly agape.</p><p> “No,” my voice remained confident and unfazed. “I’m not. But you are if you think I’m going to leave you here. You need to go.”</p><p> “Go? This is my home!” the woman was shouting at me.</p><p>  “Yes, it is.  Your home. The home that you invited me to and begged me to save you from.”  I attempted and failed to keep my volume in check, but all I wanted to do was shake the stubborn and ignorant woman in front of me until she understood the danger she was in.</p><p> I took a deep breath and steadied myself, pressing my right hand to my forehead and squeezing the bridge of my nose gently.  “Look,” I began, my voice more even keeled and calm. “I can help you.  But I need you to leave.  Get your family and go out. Just for the night.  I know what I’m doing but I can’t do it with you here. It’s too dangerous.”  </p><p>Her blank stare was all that answered me.  “Listen Karly, you called me for a reason, yeah?”  She nodded her head.  “Trust me,” I said, enunciating the words.  My hands were pressed together as if joined in prayer and I bent my arms to point my fingertips at her.  Her rapid blinking told me the words weren’t getting through to her.  “Great, come on.” I grabbed her arm and began walking her down the sidewalk.  </p><p>We had been standing on her front porch arguing for what seemed like forever but in reality, only amounted to about ten minutes.  She had called me three days prior, asking for help.  Her house had become a nightmare.  She’d always heard footsteps in the house when she was the only one home. Small things would be missing from the places that she’d put them.  But lately, the events had turned hostile.  Her and her husband had a newborn baby girl and almost as soon as they brought her home, things started going more than wrong.  They heard not only footsteps, but malicious voices over their baby monitor.  They’d done their best to ignore them and convince themselves it was impossible, but then the baby started waking up screaming, covered in bleeding scratches that she couldn’t have given herself.  Enter me.  </p><p>Karly was in shock. That I knew.  But shock I could deal with.  Willful ignorance was another story.  We stepped up to the front door of her SUV.  I shoved her into the passenger seat and even went so far as to buckle her seatbelt for her.  “Stay. Here.” I told her, pointedly.</p><p>Running in the front door and propping it open, I yelled her husband’s name.  “Greg! Time to go!” He had been the levelheaded one.  The more accepting of the two of them when confronted with the truth.  Ghosts were real. Poltergeists were real.  And there were people like me who went around the world taking care of them.</p><p>Greg walked towards the front door; the baby wrapped in his arms.  “Where’s Karly?”</p><p>“She’s already in the car. Get your family and get out of here.  I’ll let you know when it’s safe.” Their diaper bag was already packed and slung over his shoulder. “Way to be a boy scout.”  </p><p>I listened as I heard Greg turn the engine over and pull out of the driveway.  Almost instantly, the front door slammed in front of me, and it was clear that it wouldn’t be opening again until the job was done.  </p><p>I bolted for the basement door.  It had been locked tight and it took all my strength to pry it open at the cost of a few chunks of the wood surrounding the locking mechanism courtesy of a few well-aimed salt-filled bullets. I made it down three or four of the steps before being slammed against the unfinished and crumbling brick wall at the end of the stairs.</p><p>“Oh, dick move, Casper.” I struggled to pull myself back to standing, noting the more than slight twinge of pain coursing through my shoulder.</p><p>A grey figure appeared just a few feet in front of me.  A young boy, maybe ten-years old, with rage in his hollow eyes. “You don’t belong here,” his raspy voice said accusatorily.  Black blood, old and ghostly, flowed from his mouth, trickling down his chin and dripping down, staining his translucent shirt.  He held his hands up to me, pushing me back against the wall again.  </p><p>“You don’t belong here!” He was screaming now with his hands grasping at the air, moving closer towards me. His nails were broken, and his fingers dripped with more ghastly blood. The eerie skin that covered him was bruised and broken in more places than not.  I managed to reach my hand into my pocket, firmly grasping the ring of solid iron held within it.  I tossed it towards him and watched as he faded away and the force holding me up relented.  </p><p>I knew the boy’s story. He had lived in the house long before Karly and Greg moved in.  Abusive parents, gross neglect, and a lifetime spent living in the basement, clawing at the locked cellar door, before starving to death beneath the stairs. His body had been cremated, but he still haunted the home getting angrier and angrier with each passing day.</p><p>I ran to the cellar door that I knew lead to the backyard.  Still locked as it always had been for him; both in life and death. “Come on, come on,” I pleaded, searching the door and its frame for any sign of remains. It had been painted multiple times, but there were still deep scratches in the wood.  There had to be something there.  I could feel him pulling his energy back together as the room turned cold and my breath started coming out as a fog.</p><p>There wasn’t much time. And what little I had was running out quickly.  “Screw it.” I pulled my Zippo lighter out of my inside breast pocket and held it up against the door.  The paint quickly sizzled away, and the wood took to the flame almost immediately. The gun, still tucked into the back of my jeans, had half a mag left and each round was chalk full of rock salt.  I opened fire at the door and watched as it burned away.  The tell-tale screeching behind me was almost deafening but it reassured me that my hunch was right.  The ghost boy was fading away.  </p><p>My legs turned to jelly below me and I quickly fell to my knees, breathing deeply and allowing the fear to overtake me as I always did. Each job ended the same way for me.  The fear and stress, suppressed up until the job was done, took over.  And I allowed it.  For a minute or two, never longer.  I breathed, covering my face with my hands, until the putrescent smell of burning wood, paint, and human fingernails overwhelmed my nose.</p><p>I pinched the bridge of my nose, forcing myself to focus and collect myself once more before lifting my eyes to the cellar door on flambe. “Oh shit!” I yelled, quickly getting to my feet as I rushed to put the growing flames out.  The door was almost entirely turned to ash and the flames were quickly spreading to the brick surrounding it.  </p><p>I burst through the burning embers and ran for the side of the house for the garden hose, making quick work of putting out the blaze.</p><p>The cell phone in my pocket vibrated and I pressed the green answer button before holding it up to my ear. “Yeah?” I asked, breathlessly.</p><p>“Hey,” the familiar voice crooned at me.  “Been a long time.”</p><p>“Uh huh,” I answered, realizing who it was.</p><p>“Look, uh…” He hesitated. “Sammy and I are coming into town.  Thought we’d stop by if you’re around.”  I knew what that meant.  </p><p>“That’d be great, Dean. I’m a little busy tonight.  When do you get in?”</p><p>“Tomorrow.  Round noonish.  I know he’d love to see you.”  I smiled silently.  </p><p>“Dean, does he even know you’re making this call?”  It was his turn to be silent. I rolled my eyes.  “I’ve got to finish up with some work quick.  But I’ll be around tomorrow.  Stop by whenever.”</p><p>“You got it, sweetheart. See you then.”  I hung up the phone and shoved it into my pocket.</p><p>“Great,” I said out loud, to nobody but myself. Dean and Sam had breezed through my hometown a year or so ago.  They’d introduced themselves as FBI agents, but that façade quickly lost traction when I watched them shoot the local MD with silver bullets as his bright green eyes and sudden large jagged teeth murderously leapt towards me.</p><p>“Back to normal.”  </p><p>I sent a text off to Karly letting her know her home was safe again, if only slightly damaged.  I’d seen and done much worse for a case. I had a five-hour drive ahead of me to make it home before Sam and Dean got there. And a lot of lore, newspaper clippings, and weapons to hide before Sam and Dean arrived.  Keeping my night job a secret was becoming more than a full-time job.</p><p>*  *  *</p><p>I pulled my white 1970 Mercury Cougar into the parking lot to my apartment complex four and a half hours after hitting the road.  A personal best for me.  It was pushing 4 A.M, I was beyond exhausted and I still had a lot of work to do before I could even think about getting to sleep.</p><p>The trunk sprang open and I pulled my pink quilted duffle bag from it, slinging the handles over my shoulder as best as I could.  The staircase leading to my front door welcomed me home and I took each step as if I were climbing a mountain.  Everything was sore and I could feel my eyelids fighting my exhaustion.</p><p>My neighbor’s door, as always, was cracked open.  Mrs. Kellar was the president (and only member) of the local neighborhood watch and I was just lucky enough to have her right next door.  I pulled the key to my front door from my pocket as silently as possible, hoping to avoid yet another awkward encounter with the busybody, but to no avail.</p><p>“Little late to just be getting home, don’t you think Y/N?”  She poked her head out of the door, angrily staring at me with the judgmental eyes of a disappointed grandmother. Her hair was wrapped in a nightcap and her yellow plush robe was tied too tightly around her waist. She clutched at the neck of her robe as if holding her pearl necklace in astonishment.  “Yep,” was my only response.</p><p>“I don’t want no hooligan’s in my building, ya know.  This is a nice quiet place.”  I nodded silently. “Goodnight, Mrs. Kellar.”  I opened my front door and walked into the dining room, closing the door behind me. I could hear my neighbor’s astonishment and aberration of the level of disrespect that no good neighbor of hers showed as she complained to the emptiness of her own apartment and I listened through the paper-thin walls. My bag dropped from my shoulder and hit the floor with a thud.</p><p>I glanced at my dining room table.  In any other home, it would be where meals were eaten, and family meetings took place. Instead, my table was covered edge to edge with newspaper clippings, police reports and crime scene photos.  I started picking up each document.  Most of them were directly related to the case I’d just wrapped up.  But some of the reports and photos were for one I was looking into that would take me a few states away; further than I’d gone yet.</p><p>Within an hour, my garbage can was full of scraps of paper from my closed case, and all my research for the next one was happily hidden in the firesafe that was tucked away in my closet. Five fifteen in the morning now and every inch of me was screaming for bed.  With my secret work and life safely tucked away from prying eyes, I happily obliged and fell headfirst into my bed without bothering to peal off the well-worn and filthy clothes I had been working in hours before.</p><p>The sound of fists slamming against my front door startled me awake.  My eyes flickered as I struggled to focus on the face of the clock the rested on my nightstand.  One o’clock?! There was no way I’d slept that long. My cellphone charger that lay next to my clock sat empty.  Damnit! I began searching my pockets for my phone as I sprang out of bed and sprinted for the door.</p><p>The knocking on my door rang out yet again. “Yeah, I’m coming!” I shouted; my voice still heavy with sleep. I yanked the door open and came face to face with a very angry faced Dean Winchester, and his brother, Sam, standing just behind him with his arms crossed, radiating various emotions; none of which I could read.</p><p>“Oh good,” Dean sarcastically greeted me. “You’re not dead.  See ya.”  He made a move to turn away from the door and head for the stairs but his brother’s hand pushed him back as Sam shook his head at him.</p><p>“Sorry, I just woke up. I didn’t realize how late it was.” I took a step back, allowing them both into the apartment. “When did you guys get in?”  I looked at Dean and over to Sam.  He nodded at me silently with the hint of a smile at his mouth as he finally uncrossed his arms and shoved his hands into his deep pockets.  </p><p>“Couple of hours ago. Just long enough to have called you a dozen times and start going out of our minds worrying.”  It was obvious Dean wasn’t going to let this one go.</p><p>“Dean, I was out super late and I crashed.  Hard.  No need to worry.  I’m fine. All parts intact and good to go.” I made a show of spreading each arm and leg out independently before turning in a circle as if he needed to inspect me for damages. Dean’s face finally broke as he rolled his eyes and sighed. “Never do that again.”  </p><p>“Yeah, yeah.” I muttered as he pulled me into a hug. “Y/N, you reek.  Why do you smell like a housefire?”</p><p>Internally, I panicked as I cursed myself for forgoing changing out of my clothes when I got in. “Bonfire,” I explained as coolly as I could muster.  Sam’s eyes narrowed as he looked at me. “You hate bonfires.”</p><p>“Yeah, well, not when tequila is involved,” I responded as I gave him double finger guns, feeling ridiculous.  They seemed to accept my answer.</p><p>“Come on,” Dean looked at me.  “Get showered, get dressed. Let’s go.” Now it was my turn to be confused. “We’re in town for like a day.  We’re going out and you’re coming with us.”  I rolled my eyes but began walking back towards my bedroom, grabbing the duffle bag off of the floor and carrying it with me.</p><p>“Ten minutes!” Dean yelled after me as I closed the door to my room.  I threw the bag on my bed and immediately unzipped it, knowing my cell phone would be inside.  Picking it up and pressing the wake button, the screen only flashed “Low battery” at me for a moment before the screen went black and the phone turned off completely. I quickly laid it on my charging pad on the nightstand and headed to the shower.</p><p>Fifteen minutes later, I was fresh, clean, and dressed.  I threw my still damp hair up into a bun and quickly rolled on deodorant before tapping my phone’s screen.  “55%, good enough for me.”  </p><p>I opened the door and walked into the living room. “Okay, I’m set. Let’s go.”  </p><p>“Great,” Dean exclaimed, rubbing his hands together. “I’m driving.”  Dean always drove.  It was an accepted and unwritten rule.</p><p>We piled in the car, Dean in the driver’s seat, Sam sitting shotgun and me in the back sitting behind Dean. “Where to?” I asked. “Dude,” Dean replied, his voice full of incredulity.  “The casino. That place has the best shrimp cocktail in town.  That, booze and blackjack and I’m good.”  </p><p>“Works for me.”  I settled into the seat and pulled my phone out of my pocket as it continuously vibrated, alerting me to each missed call, voicemail and text message that had come through throughout the course of the day.</p><p>I flipped through the text messages. Mostly from Dean, beginning with “About an hour out.  See you soon.”  Followed up with “You still free?”  and “Where are you?” getting progressively more panicked as time went by. There was one from my boss letting me know he wouldn’t be in the office the next day, and the last one from Sam that was just a question mark.  It went hand in hand with his behavior since I’d opened the front door; silent stoicism.</p><p>The voicemails were far less numerous so I pushed the dial button and began listening to them.  Sam’s easily identifiable sigh rang through the phone and into my ear before the line disconnected.  Then a message from Dean with threats of bodily harm if I wasn’t already being held hostage by a homicidal maniac.  And the final message was from Sam.  He began with a deep breath before he spoke. “I just need you to be okay. I need you to call Dean or call me and just…I just need you to be okay.  I know I was a jerk and I know I ruined it, but I care.  I still care, so much.  Just be okay.”  I looked up at him, my eyebrows pursed and my mouth slightly agape.  The phone was still up to my ear as Sam’s eyes met mine in the rearview mirror. All stoicism vanished as panic appeared in his eyes as he turned his head to face me.  </p><p>*  *  *</p><p>“What the hell?” I muttered, more to myself than anyone else. Sam’s eyes darted to his brother and back to me, seemingly pleading with me to keep quiet.  A tactic that had never worked.  “Sam?” I questioned.  His eyes closed as he swallowed hard, not bothering to respond. “What was that, Sam?”</p><p>“What was what?” Dean inquired, taking a pause from humming along to “Ace of Spades.”</p><p>I quickly flicked my eyes to meet Dean’s in the rearview mirror. “Sam knows.”  We both looked at Sam then, me waiting for an explanation and Dean looking for illumination.</p><p>“I left her a voicemail,” he answered.  The air was filled with a pregnant silence. “That’s all.”</p><p>“When?” his brother asked.</p><p>“Today.  When she wasn’t answering for you and you thought…when WE thought something was wrong.”  He turned back around and fixed his eyes on the landscape out his window.  For someone so large, he was doing his best to appear as small as possible.  </p><p>“And what did your message say?”  Dean’s voice dripped with mockery.  He didn’t get an answer to his question, and his laughter rang throughout the car.  “Don’t worry, Y/N.  I’m sure it was absolutely nothing.  Right, Sammy?”  Dean pulled into the parking garage just outside the newly remodeled Ameristar casino, quickly pulled into a parking spot and threw the transmission into park before turning the ignition to the off position. His stare bored into the back of his brother’s head before letting a chuckle escape his lips and looking back at me.</p><p>“I’ll let you two talk this out.  There is pot in there just begging for me to win it.”  Dean was out of the car and on his way to the entrance in what seemed like a blink.  I sat in my seat, eagerly waiting for Sam to break the tension. To say something.  After what seemed like forever stretched itself over the span of five minutes, I sighed, running my hands down my face before grabbing for the door handle, opening it slightly, ready to spring from the vehicle.</p><p>“I was worried,” Sam all but whispered.  </p><p>“Yeah,” I quipped back at him. “I got that from the message.  Thanks.”  I fully opened the car door and stepped out into the fresh air.  We were one of four cars parked on the garage level we were at, but I could hear the crowds of people below filtering into the building. I began walking towards the entrance.</p><p>“Y/N!” Sam called after me. I listened to the sound of him slamming the passenger side door and his footsteps almost running towards me. “Damnit, Y/N.” He cursed under his breath as I felt his fingers wrap gently around my upper arm, pulling me to a stop.  </p><p>“We need to talk,” he pleaded.</p><p>“I think we said everything we needed to say four months ago, or did you forget?”</p><p>Four Months ago</p><p>“Bobby, just tell me how I kill it.”</p><p>“Kid, it’s a vamp. You need to cut its head off.  Cut and dry.  You sure you don’t need some backup?” He had been trying to get me to take another hunter with me on every job I went on for months.  I’d let a scrawny but spot-on hunter named Garth help me out of my first few cases.  Lately, I’d been going solo.  And it made my curmudgeonly friend very nervous.</p><p>“I’ve got this one, thanks though.  Apply machete to neck. Swing.  Mission accomplished.  I’ll call you in the morning, Bobby.  Thanks for the assist.” I smiled to myself as I hung up.</p><p>I picked my keys up off of the counter of the cheap, dirty motel room that I’d been staying in and headed for the door.  As I reached for the door handle, and swung it open, I walked over the threshold and slammed directly into a large, hard body standing directly in front of me.</p><p>Stepping back into the room, I shook my head and tried to regain my senses.  “Sam?” My confusion, surprise and horror was evident in my voice.</p><p>“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”  His voice was shaky, and I wasn’t sure if it was due to rage or fear.</p><p>“How are you-“</p><p>“You’re hunting? Seriously?”  His voice rose to higher pitch than I’d ever heard it.  We’d known each other over a year and had eventually moved beyond passing flirtations to real intimacy.  Or as much intimacy as he could offer while he traveled the country and fought the monsters of everyone’s nightmares.</p><p>“Damnit, Bobby.” I hissed under my breath as I turned and walked back into the room.</p><p>“Bobby knows?” His voice was incredulous.  The door slammed behind him as he joined me in the room. “Bobby’s involved in this?”</p><p>I looked at him, full of shock.  “It’s bad enough that you roped Garth into this, but Bobby?”</p><p>“You’re checking up on me now?” I was deeply offended and full of uncontainable rage.</p><p>“No, of course not. But when Garth tells me he went with you on multiple hunts, you’re damn right I’m going to check in.  You can’t be hunting, Y/N. It’s not-“</p><p>“It’s not what, Sam? Why shouldn’t I hunt, huh?  You do this every single day.  Why shouldn’t I?” I stressed every word, desperately trying to show him the hypocrisy he was spouting.</p><p>“It’s not safe.” His voice was now deceptively calm, but his fingers raking through his hair betrayed him.</p><p>I answered him only with a glare.</p><p>“How am I supposed to do my job, when I’m worrying about you out there?” His eyes took on the glassed look that shot right to my core.  As if he were pleading with me.</p><p>“For fuck’s sake, Sam. I could be in danger anywhere.  My car could crash, there could be a fire, I could be in a bank as it’s robbed! It’s no different than this.”</p><p>“It’s entirely different. Y/N, don’t do this. Please,” anger was seeping through his concern as he clenched his teeth.</p><p>“I have a job to do.” Each word was punctuated and stressed.</p><p>“Not happening.” He stepped closer to me, starring down and into my eyes, holding me locked in his glare. The space between us was pure electric.  Everything told me to grab his face, pull him down to me and kiss him as passionately as I ever could, but my stubborn independence stopped me.</p><p>I pushed my way past him, knocking my shoulder into his as I made my way for the door again.  As my hand reached for the handle once again, his hand pushed the door against its frame, guaranteeing it’s continued closure.</p><p>“You go out that door, I’m not chasing after you.  I’m done. I’m out.”</p><p>“Good to know,” I snapped.</p><p>“I won’t help you kill yourself, Y/N.  Don’t do this. You can’t do this job.”</p><p>“Watch me.”  I pulled the door open, walked outside and slammed it closed behind me.  </p><p>By the time that I finished taking care of the vamp and made my way back to the room, I found it empty. No trace of Sam to be found.</p><p>Present Day</p><p>“I remember.” Sam hung his head.</p><p>“Then we’re done here, aren’t we?” I turned on my heel and walked into the casino.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I could feel his footsteps behind me, following me into the building in silence.  I kept my eyes ahead of me, focused on the destination that I had in mind.  Walking past the blackjack tables, I could see Dean laying his initial bet down.  His eyes flashed up at me with a smile playing at the corners of his lips.  Holding my hand up to my mouth, I mimicked drinking from a glass and pointed to the bar. He nodded quickly before looking back down at the table in front of him as the dealer began setting down the hands for the round.</p><p>All the barstools were empty save for one.  A man in a disheveled brown suit sat in one of the stools looking burned out.  I grabbed a seat at the other end of the bar and waited for the bartender to come over to me.  Sam still stood behind me with a few feet between us.  </p><p>“What can I get you?” The bartender was fairly young, maybe in his mid-twenties, with short brown hair and a smile on his face that seemed authentic enough.  I gave him a smile in return and ordered.</p><p>“I’ll take a Tin Cup. Thanks.”  </p><p>“Coming right up.”  He turned around and set to work pouring just enough whiskey, lime juice and ginger beer into the shaker.  A few seconds later, my glass sat in front of me, full to the brim. I quickly grabbed it and put it to my lips, savoring the taste.  </p><p>Sam sat down on the stool next to me, his pensive expression fixed on my face, but he said nothing. My drink was halfway gone, and he had yet to stop staring at me.</p><p>I let out an exasperated sigh. “Sam, what?” I snapped as I turned my head quickly to face him.  He looked almost shocked.  </p><p>“You’re mad.”</p><p>“Thanks, captain states-the-obvious.”  I turned back to look at the TV screen behind the bar and finished off my beverage.  </p><p>“What can I do?” He asked. “How do I fix this?”</p><p>I slammed my fist down onto the bar and made eye contact with the bartender. “I’m going to need something a lot stronger than this.”  He nodded at me with a chuckle as he set to mixing a Long Island Iced tea.  </p><p>Sam sat silently, letting his questions linger in the air as I gulped my alcoholic tea.  “We’re gonna have to keep these coming,” I nodded to the bartender who accepted my order as I slid my credit card across the bar top.</p><p>“I don’t know that you can, Sam.”  I answered tersely.  His expression turned from intent to surprised, if not hurt.  “Do you really want to?”  </p><p>“Of course I do, Y/N. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”  I stared at him blankly, attempting to digest the words he’d said.  </p><p>“Sam,” I began.  I pulled another mouthful of from my glass before finding the confidence to continue.  “You’ve made your opinion of me pretty clear.  You said everything you said and followed it up with four months of silence. Doesn’t exactly scream ‘I’m interested’ if you know what I mean.”  I tapped my now empty glass which was almost immediately replaced with an identical one.</p><p>“That’s not fair, Y/N.” Sam stated defensively.  “You never reached out to me either.  The phone works both ways.”  His eyebrows were stressed as he stared at me.  </p><p>“What was there to say?” My voice rose as did my indignation.  “You told me you were out!  You were done with me.  Why would I ever reach out after that?”</p><p> “I don’t know,” he began to get incredulous. “Maybe to apologize?”</p><p>I choked on my drink and stopped just short of spitting it out across the bar.  </p><p>My eyes were open as wide as they physically could be and I stared at Sam’s face, waiting for the realization to hit him that he was in fact being an idiot.  </p><p>I threw back the remaining half of my drink before asking the bartender to close out my tab.  </p><p>“Where are you going?” Sam asked as I stood up and waited for my card back.</p><p>“Does it matter?” I bit back at him. “You’re done chasing me, right?  You’ve been done with me for months so why the hell should you care now?” I shoved my credit card back into my wallet and shoved it down into my pocket before turning on my heel.  My eyes searched for Dean in the sea of gamblers and smoke that had accumulated since I walked in.</p><p>“Dude, you’re super screwed.” I heard the bartender begin to chastise Sam as I walked away.</p><p>I quickly made my way out of the large gambling area and found the front entrance.  Pulling out my phone, I quickly ordered a ride to pick me up. I had an 8-minute wait that seemed like it was going to take a lifetime. I quickly scrolled through my contacts list before stopping on the one that I needed.</p><p>“Hey, it’s me.  I need a job.  What do you got?”  </p><p>“Y/N?  Are you nuts?  You just got back home.  Don’t you want a few days to recoup? I thought you had to work if nothing else?” Garth’s concern was tangible even over the phone.</p><p>“I’ve got vacation time and I need to get out of here.”</p><p>“They’re there, aren’t they?”</p><p>I rolled my eyes.  “Garth, please,” I begged as my voice cracked.</p><p>I listened to him sigh. “I’m gonna regret this.  Just texted you the details.”</p><p>A smile found its way to my face. “Thanks. You’re a lifesaver.”  </p><p>“Remind me of that after Sam pummels me.”</p><p>I ended the call and pulled up the message he had sent.  Demon signs were identified just a few hours west.  He had included the phone number of the local hunter on the job and the address to meet them at.  I breathed a sigh of relief.  </p><p>“Y/N?” Dean’s voice came up behind me.  “What’s going on?”  </p><p>I lowered my head as I put my hands into my back pockets before looking back up at him.  “It was worth a shot, Dean.”  </p><p>He looked at me, confused, with his arms out to the sides. “You’re leaving?  What the hell happened?”</p><p>I shook my head and tucked my hair behind my ears.  “Nothing happened.” I chuckled sadly.  “Same as always.”  </p><p>Dean turned his head to look behind him before turning back to face me.  “We didn’t even get to have lunch.”  </p><p>I stood on my tip toes and placed a swift kiss on his cheek.  “Maybe next time.” I smiled at him. “You know where to find me.”  I heard a car pull up behind me.</p><p>“You Y/N?” the driver shouted from the window.  I nodded in response before I turned and opened the rear passenger side door.  I quickly took my seat and fastened my seatbelt. Looking out my open window, I made eye contact with Dean.  </p><p>“Y/N…” he began. “Don’t go.” There was a desperation in his voice that his expression tried desperately to hide.  I waved at him silently and the car pulled away.  </p><p>*  *  *<br/>I sat quietly in the car as the driver navigated his way to my house where I would be dropped off. My phone had not stopped buzzing since we had pulled away from the casino.  “Deano” flashed on the screen non-stop with a photo of the boys goofing around to announce the caller.  I quickly pressed “Decline” every time.  </p><p>“Want to listen to some music?”  The driver asked me.  I shook my head and answered “No, thanks.  I’m good.”  </p><p>“Water?” He asked, holding up a small bottle.  I smiled and shook my head no while making eye contact with him in the rearview mirror. “Let me know if you change your mind.”</p><p>Unlocking my phone, I quickly sent a text message to my boss letting her know that I needed to use some vacation time and take the week off.  She responded almost immediately letting me know that that would not be a problem.  I breathed a relieved sigh and stared out the window, continuing to ignore the near constant buzzing of my phone alerting to me yet another call.</p><p>We pulled into the parking lot and up to the entryway to my building as I powdered down my phone and shoved it into my pocket.  “Thanks,” I said to the driver as I got out and shut the door behind me.  I jogged up the stairs to my door and quickly unlocked it, knowing that any minute, the brothers Winchester would be showing up again.</p><p>My pink quilted duffle bag still sat on my bed, full of clothes, weapons, and everything I had ever found myself needing on a hunt.  I tossed my cell phone charger in, zipped it up, slung the handles over my shoulder and left, locking the door behind me.  The Cougar was in one of the first few spots in the lot.  I unlocked the door, threw my bag into the passenger seat, and pulled out of the spot.</p><p>Just as I was turning out of the lot to head for the highway, that stark black 1967 Impala came down the road, heading for my apartment.  I could hear it before I saw it and knew that within it were two men intent on delivering a lecture at the very least.  I put my foot down, pushing the gas pedal to the floor.  My car lurched forward, unaccustomed to the speeds I was insisting.  It had never been in the best condition and I could hear the transmission whining as it switched gears.  </p><p>“Come on, come on, come on. Keep going!” I watched as Dean pulled in and subsequently out of the parking lot behind me, but my head start was just enough.  The exit for the highway was just close enough and I pulled off and let the engine continue to roar as the Impala faded into the rearview.  </p><p>Two hours later, I was pulling into the driveway of the address Garth had sent.  My cellphone still sat in my bag, turned off and most likely full of angry voicemails and text messages.  Those were decidedly future-me’s problem.  I turned the engine off, got out of my car and made my way to the front door.  It was opening before I could raise my hand to knock.  </p><p>“Holy shit!” the dark-haired woman in front of me exclaimed.</p><p>I chuckled to myself. “Hey Jules.”  </p><p>She put her hand to her chest as if to calm herself down and took a deep breath.  “Y/N.  Holy hell you scared me.”  Her surprise turned to a smile as she wrapped me in her arms and hugged me forcefully, as she always had since the day we had met.  Sam had helped her out on a case not too long after meeting me.  He spent a week working on a Rougarou case with her that flowed into our weekend together.  “What brings you into town?”</p><p>“Garth sent me.  Said there were some demon signs.  I was itching for some work so.  Here I am.”  I spread my arms out to the sides.  “I’m at your disposal.”  </p><p>Jules’ expression flipped to one of confusion.  Her eyebrows creased, her mouth was taut, and she crossed her arms slowly. “Y/N, I’m not one for needing backup.”  </p><p>“Nobody’s saying you are!” I snapped into defensive mode. “I just needed to get out of town.  Garth said this was the closest job.  I can go if –“</p><p>“No, no.  It’s totally fine.  Garth’s just been on my case lately.  Wants everyone to have backup.  Even those of us who’ve been hunting solo for more years than that boy’s been alive.”  I shook my head in solidarity.</p><p>“I most definitely know the feeling.”</p><p>Jules shook her head as if shaking away a stray thought. “You can come in if you’d like.  I was just running out to do some recon.”</p><p>“Mind if I grab a drink quick?  I’d kill for some water.”  Jules stepped aside and waved me into the kitchen, grabbing me a glass and filling it with ice water.  </p><p>“I’m going to run upstairs and grab some supplies quick.  Make yourself at home.”  I heard Jules footsteps as she ran up the steps. I drained my glass fairly quickly and filled it up with water from the tap and began sipping at it.  I felt like I had been dehydrated for days.  Which, considering I had been working a different case less than 24 hours ago, was entirely possible.  </p><p>I brought my glass into the living room and sat it down on the end table, taking a seat on the couch. I took the opportunity to close my eyes for a moment.  Rest seemed to have been alluding me lately and with Jules needing prep time, I was more than willing to rest my eyes.  </p><p>I wasn’t sure how much time had passed but when I woke up, I was laying on the couch of Jules’ house with a blanket tucked over me.  The lights were off, the sky outside the window was dark, and there wasn’t any sign of Jules.  Rubbing my eyes, I swung my legs over until my feet rested on the floor. “Jules?” I called out.  No answer. But I could hear dishes clanking in the kitchen and headed that way, allowing my eyes to adjust to the light slowly. “Sorry Jules,” I started.  “I didn’t mean to –“</p><p>“So not Jules.”  Sam’s voice rang out, full of anger but deceptively calm. My eyes snapped up to his as I watched him dry his hands off on a towel and set it down on the counter behind him.  His gaze was fixed on me.  </p><p>“Is running away your new thing?”  He broke eye contact for only a moment.  Just long enough to put on his patented puppy dog eyes.  The ones that made me melt in my core.</p><p>“I’m not running away from anything.”</p><p>The puppy dog eyes were being tarnished by anger. “Y/N, you sped away from us.  From me.  After you walked out on me in the casino.”</p><p>“Well I guess you’d know. You taught me how.”  I knew my words had crossed the line as soon as they left my mouth.  “Sorry,” I said almost instantly.</p><p>“No, you’re right.” Sam’s long arms lengthened as he pushed his hands into his pockets.  “I walked out.  I told you I was done.”  His voice was low now.  Full of sadness and a hint of regret.  “But I’m here now. And obviously I’m not done,” he paused.  “Y/N, I don’t think I could ever be done.”  I lowered my head into my hands and massaged my temples. The stress of the situation was overwhelming.</p><p>But after a few seconds, Sam’s hands were on mine, pulling them away from my face.  He brought his palm up to my cheek and tilted my chin up, forcing me to meet him eye to eye.  Those deep hazel eyes that I could melt into.  I watched him flutter his lashes as his eyes flicked down, fixing on my lips before making eye contact once again.</p><p>“Sam,” I all but whispered. Before I could think or say another word, his lips were on mine.  The force took my breath away.  His arms wound themselves around my waist as he pulled me close, refusing to unlatch himself from me.  My lips responded in kind, massaging his with my own.  </p><p> </p><p>*  *  *<br/>His arms wrapped around me; cradling my head in one hand while his other wound around my waist, pulling me closer and closer to him as he devoured me with his ravenous mouth.  My mind had gone blank.  I was lost in his kiss as my breathing became ragged and I wound myself around him.  I hadn’t felt our feet move, but suddenly I felt my back pressing up against a wall as my feet lifted from the floor and Sam’s hands held my thighs up and wrapped my legs around him.  </p><p>My breathing stuttered and I broke the contact of our lips, taking a breath and stifling a moan.  Sam’s head lowered as he lowered his mouth to my neck, gently nibbling at the sensitive skin covering my collarbone.  </p><p>“Sam,” I breathed out. I felt his fingers reaching into my hair, his forehead pressed against mine as he searched for my lips yet again. I welcomed his kiss hungrily, eager to continue our escapades.</p><p>Yet again, I hadn’t felt Sam’s feet move, yet my back was laying flat on the couch as he hovered over me, refusing to break the contact between our mouths.  I reveled in the feeling of him.  His hair falling from behind his ears and draping against my temples.  It had been so long since I had been able to feel this.  </p><p>“Y/N,” Sam crooned, sending chills down my spine and my already erratic breathing to quicken.  “Y/N,” he said again, almost questioningly.  “Are you okay?” His voice sounded nervous. Yet all I could think about was needing him closer and wanting his lips on me again.</p><p>“Hey,” his voice was getting louder as he pulled away from me.  “Y/N, come on.” I reached for him, intending to pull him back towards me, but my hands came up empty.  “You need to wake up,” he insisted. “Come on, Y/N.”  The urgency that had found its way into his words confused me.  “Wake up!” his words shouted, but his voice had changed and was no longer his own.  His lips were moving, but the voice coming from him was new.  Familiar but I couldn’t quite place it.  </p><p>There was a hand on my shoulder, shaking me gently. “Hey, Y/N,” it rushed. “We have to go.”  My eyes fluttered open and slowly came into focus. “Jules?” I questioned.  </p><p>“Yeah,” she answered. “You must’ve fallen asleep.  I was only upstairs for a few minutes.  You ready to leave?  Need a few?”</p><p>I rapidly blinked my eyes, attempting to clear my head.  “Yeah,” I muttered.  “Just need to wake up.”</p><p>Jules looked at me suspiciously, her arms crossed in front of her as she nodded slowly and walked into the kitchen.</p><p>Damnit, I internalized as I began mentally berating myself for getting so caught up.  Just a dream I told myself as I stood up, tucking my hair back behind my ears. “I’m just going to grab my bag, Jules. Be right back,” I bellowed, making my way to the door and heading for my car.  My bag sat on the passenger seat untouched.  I reached in and grabbed it, running back towards the house as I went.</p><p>“Yeah,” I heard Jules talking in the kitchen. “Yeah she’s here, why?”  Her conversation paused. “We’re just about to head-” she was abruptly cut off.  “Excuse me?” He voice was full of attitude now. I walked in with my bag slung over my shoulder and looked over at her quizzically. “Boy, you better mind how you talk.” The response she received was less than acceptable.  She pulled the phone away from her face.  I could hear the person on the other end as she did so, their voice raised and berating. Jules made eye contact with me, lifting her eyebrows expectantly as she hung up the call.</p><p>“Y/N,” she began, a sigh following my name.  “Anything you want to tell me?” It was less a question and more a demand.  An expectation that would not be allowed to go unanswered.</p><p>My expression was dumbfounded.  I was completely lost. “Jules, I don’t-“</p><p>She put her hand up, silencing me. “Cut the bullshit.” The accusation dripping from her words left me on the defensive.</p><p>“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I said, enunciating each word. “I called Garth, asked for a job, he sent me to you. End of story.”</p><p>Her eyes narrowed. “That was not Garth on the phone and you damn well know it.” My heart rate quickened and panic began to set in.  </p><p>“No,” I said, begging for my guess to be wrong.</p><p>“Yes,” she answered pointedly. “Seems your boyfriend isn’t too pleased that you’re on a hunt.”</p><p>My astonishment turned quickly to rage. “First, I don’t have a boyfriend. And second, if I did? He wouldn’t have any say in my hunting or not.” I hit my boiling point and my words were coming out in screams.  “If whoever called you has a problem with what I do, that’s on them. But controlling me or telling me I won’t do this? Out of the question.”  I could see my words hitting Jules hard as her defensive barrier seemed to fall.</p><p>“Look,” she began. “I don’t disagree with you.  But I can’t be in the middle of this.  I won’t.”</p><p>I answered her with a sigh. “I get it.” My words were softer now.  Because I did understand.  Putting her in the middle of whatever this was wouldn’t be fair to her.  “I don’t want to put you or anyone in the middle of anything.”  She shook her head in acceptance.</p><p>“I’m going to head out. I’ve got maybe an hour before the locals ruin any chance of this being an easy gig.” I nodded, my arms crossed as tension radiated off of me.  </p><p>As soon as she was out the door, I dropped my bag on the coffee table, sat down and pulled my cell phone out.  It took a minute for it to boot back up and get a signal, but the voicemails and unreceived text messages came rolling in in no time.  </p><p>“Y/N, are you freaking kidding me?!  Answer the damn phone!” Dean’s voice rang out, chastising me. Deleted.</p><p>“Slow the hell down! You’re gonna get yourself killed!” Another message from Dean.  Another deleted.</p><p>“Son of a-” Deleted.</p><p>Seven more messages followed.  All from Dean.  All deleted. My guilt and shame grew with every message, but so did my indignation.</p><p>The last message came through. “Y/N,” Sam’s voice came through, almost as a whisper.  He cleared his throat. “Please don’t do this.” He was pleading with me. “She’s gone, man.” I heard Dean in the background. “I can’t catch up to her.” Sam sighed into the phone.  I could see his face in my mind.  Head down, eyes teary as his hair fell, framing his perfectly symmetrical face.  “Y/N,” he started. “I love you.  I know I ruined everything.  I know I’ve never actually said the words, and I know you hate me.  But I love you.  Always will.”  I swallowed hard, holding back the shocked tears that threatened to fall. “If you’re done, if you’re out, tell me.  But until you say the words, I’m not going to stop being here.  Y/N,” he paused again, clinging to my name as if it were a safety net. “I’m yours.”  </p><p>The robotic voice came over the phone instructing me as to how to save or delete the message.  I disconnected the line, unable to decide.  Pulling up my contacts list, Sam’s number was still at the very top.  A star next to his name that had always served to ensure that he’d be at the top of your list.  You quickly selected it followed by Call.</p><p>You hesitated, putting the phone up to your ear, pushing your eyelids closed as the line began to ring. The line connected almost instantaneously as Sam accepted the call.  “Y/N?” He asked. You could hear the panic in his voice.</p><p>“Yeah,“ I answered. “It’s me.”</p>
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